


We've Got Our Reasons

by Duchesse



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, M/M, Reader-Insert, Reader-Interactive, Romance, Self-Insert, Spoilers-ish, gender-neutral, kinda spoilers to after altissia i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-22
Updated: 2017-12-22
Packaged: 2019-02-18 11:06:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13098798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Duchesse/pseuds/Duchesse
Summary: Following the events in Altissia, Ignis develops a bizarre sense of dependency on you.[Ignis Scientia/You].





	We've Got Our Reasons

**Author's Note:**

> this was interesting to write. i actually had a lot of fun. 
> 
> if you enjoyed, please do let me know!

“If I might make a suggestion: this stew could use more seasoning.”

Mustering the strength to still your hand from flicking the wooden spoon out at his face, you easily plucked the silverware from Ignis’ fingers and tossed it aside. As enthralled as you had been initially when he agreed to help you learn to spruce up your cooking skills, it was reaching a point where it seemed as though he was pointlessly nagging.

In spite of your attempt to dissuade him, Ignis remained steadfast–or ignorant, whichever it was, it was unfathomably annoying. Since the incident in Altissia had greatly altered the team mechanics, he had taken a fancy to you, or rather the simple tasks he had entrusted to you to aid him with on a daily basis. The burden of those domestic tasks had drastically shifted to you alone, and truthfully, you were relieved.

It gave you an excuse to put distance between yourself and the group, away from the escalating tension that you wanted no part of. There was a part of you that grieved for everything lost in Altissia; Ignis’ eyesight, but perhaps more selfishly, you mourned the passing of camaraderie and the light-hearted banter over a meal beneath the sky at night.

You had come into the group as a miscellaneous figure and, for a short time, felt the void in your soul suture close. The smiles and laughter had gone to their graves, happiness but a fantasy in a storybook. But, compared to what Noctis and Ignis had lost, your feelings were nothing short of being self-centered.

“Ah, there you are,” Ignis greeted with a feigned gusto, a series of clacks following in his wake as his walking cane struck rocks below. “I heard from Gladio you had come here to do the laundry. Care if I join you?”

It was the most bizarre thing ever to hear someone ask to help with the laundry, and truthfully, you weren’t partial to the idea. Yet, you uttered an agreeable noise, prompting him to proceed closer slowly, allowing the cane to guide him to the riverside where you were hunched.

“Here,” you said a bit too forcefully, grabbing the cane to reel him closer to you. “Let me help you. If you fall in, I will, like, literally never hear the end of it.”

Ignis went silent far too quickly at that, making your chest tighten uncomfortably. 

“My apologies, am I…” he paused, chin tucking closer towards his chest as though mulling his words carefully. “In the way?”

You gave a dispirited sigh and slid your hand up the shaft of the cane until your fingers came to rest atop of his, squeezing in a way that you hoped translated as comforting. “No, Ignis, of course not. I have some shopping to do later, so, you being here is actually a big help.”

Seemingly satisfied with your response, Ignis gave a nod as he took a seat on the stones next to you, so close in fact that your shoulders brushed. It was previously unfamiliar closeness that you were quickly growing accustom to; the warmth of his presence, and his quips to most things you said and did.

“Blood stains are difficult to get out, we’ll need to do those separately another time,” Ignis explained midst his scrubbing, repeatedly dunking one of Noctis’ shirts into the river. “Don’t scrub too hard, the colors will fade and the fabric will lose strength.”

“I get it, Ignis. Thanks.” 

He continued on, nary offering a chance for silence to find its way between you both. “For dinner tonight, I was thinking a heartier dish. Perhaps something with garula loin in it. Our stock spoiled, however, so we’ll need to replenish tonight.”

You fixed him with a pointed sidelong stare, lips jutted in annoyance. Your intention had to make a fish platter of of some sort; light and flaky. Despite yourself, you mumbled few words of affirmation to Ignis, wringing out one of Prompto’s shirts with all your might.

“Hm, we should pick up a case of Ebony while we’re there as well.”

Ever so slowly, you craned your neck to look at him fully, eyes piercing the side of his head while he continued washing dutifully, carefully twisting the water from the shirt before placing it into the basket at his side. In your ignorance, you had forgotten just how keen of a man he truly was.

At the sound of the water stilling in front of you, Ignis paused as well, palms coming to perch on his thighs as he turned his head, offering you his attention.

“Is there something wrong?” Ignis asked, voice quiet as though he already knew the answer.

You couldn’t deal with this. It was one thing to allow him to help you from time-to-time, but he felt attached to the hip, trailing after you like a lost dog. Those few moments of solace you sought out from the tension in the group had been ripped away from you.

“Why are you always up my ass, Ignis?” you started, heat blossoming across your face and creeping towards your ears in a rush. “I-I just don’t get it. Am I that bad at what I do? Like, I’m just trying to find a couple minutes of peace. I can’t even have that without you guys fighting, or… or you trying to tell me what to do!”

“You…”

“I get it! Everyone is upset, everyone is hurt,” you seethed, wadding the soaked shirt into a tight ball before thrusting it into your basket. “ _I get it!_  But I can’t deal with it anymore! I’m so sick of it… so… sick… of it…”

The ugly thing about anger was just how quickly it came and went, and left you hollow with regret. Almost instantaneously the flush of rage dissipated, making your shoulders sag forward as you lowered your gaze from Ignis’ face to his chest, unable to bear your shame.

For the longest time, Ignis merely sat there in silence, his pale lips pulled into a taut line while his hand wrung the ornate head of his cane. This didn’t miss you and you fumbled to find the words to apologize.

“Ignis, I–”

“No need,” he interjected, stamping his cane into the stone once as though to solidify his will on the matter. “I should be the one to apologize to you. I… forgive me for burdening you as I have. I should have been more aware to your feelings.”

You hastily licked your lips, parting them to speak without words to follow. What were you supposed to say? You could grovel and that still didn’t feel as though it would be enough.

Once again, Ignis stamped his cane into the stone, though this time to wedge it between a few to balance himself as he stood. You stayed at his feet, eyes following him as he picked up his basket and sent the tip of his cane skittered across the rocks.

“You asked me… why it was that I’ve, ah, been so persistent,” Ignis said, turning his face towards the way of the sun, basking in the warmth. “There are a few, but mostly for the same reason as you.”

“Ignis, I’m sorry…” the apology bubbled from your throat, chin wrinkling as you forced back the stinging in your eyes. “I’m sorry.”

He shook his head, tucking the basket under his arm as he started his trek back to the campsite. “Quite alright. I’ll see you back at camp. Take care not to be out for too long; it’s dangerous at night, after all.”

You couldn’t let this end here. You couldn’t let things worsen or sour, especially not with Ignis. Not after all of his kindness and patience with you, bearing the weight of your failures and inexperience. He had found a type of peace with you that no one else did, and in a single swoop you had stolen that away.

At the touch of your arms winding him from behind, his body was rigid against you, sending the basket tumbling from his arm and clothes into a heap on the ground. You pressed your cheek against his back, your hold unrelenting.

“ _I’m sorry_ , Ignis!” you forced your feelings into those words. “You’re not a burden, you never have been. Even now, despite everything that’s happened, you’re just… amazing.”

You felt the tautness in his back begin to ebb, body shifting as he turned his head to his shoulder.

“I’m the one who’s wrong,” you said, loosening your arms as he faced you. “Even if I am mad, it’s not your fault. And, I-I don’t know, taking my anger out on you isn’t the way to deal with this–I’m sorry.”

“I know you meant no harm–but, thank you, apology accepted.” Ignis drew you against his chest in a single motion, his hand resting at your nape while the other held your waist and his cane. What surprised you more than the embrace was how tightly he held you, how closely his face was to your skin. 

You wondered if this was something that he had needed all along.

“Now then,” he said abruptly, distancing his body from yours, though his touch lingered on your shoulders. “Shall we make for camp? Should be enough daylight left for you to pick-up ingredients.”

Reluctantly, you slipped away from his hands to pick up the basket and clothes, offering it to him once again. “Actually…”

“Yes?”

“Would you go with me?” you asked at tad bashfully, looping your arm with his to help guide the way. “I’m pretty bad at picking out garula loin still.”

For the first time in a long time, the corners of his lips pulled into a soft smile.

“Yes, I’d be delighted.”


End file.
